JUNE 1966. MY BURNING SUMMER. Although the path is rough, the future looks bright. In the past my name lacked authority. The opera producers and critics showed me little respect. They rewrote my scripts. I had to fight for every line and note. The ordinary folks thought of me as Mao's housewife. Except in Shanghai where Chun-qiao was in control, no one printed my words. Now that I have Mao's support, everyone is competing for my attention. The press, in my opinion, is like an infant-whoever offers it a nipple will be called mother. Cheap.
In Mao's name I organize a national festival-the Festival of Revolutionary Operas. I select potential operas and adapt them to serve Mao's purpose. I arrange talented artists to upgrade the pieces into high-quality extravaganzas, such as Taking the Tiger Mountain by Wit and The Sha Family Pond. I make the operas bear my signature and personally supervise every detail, from the selection of the actors to the way a singer hits the note.
There are quick learners and stubborn minds. I have to deal with them all. Not a day passes that I don't feel my enemy's shadow. When the resistance becomes strong and my projects face danger I phone Mao. This morning a couple of my playwrights have been taken away from their work. They were put into a detention house under an order placed by my enemy. The reason was vague-"They have not served the people with their hearts and souls." I have no idea who exactly is in charge of the opposition. Everything is done through students. There is a war zone here. My enemy has many faces. The students are being manipulated.
Mao comforts me by offering substantial help. Launch a campaign, he says. Establish your own force. Go to universities and speak at public rallies on my behalf. The goal is to get the students on our side.
The thirty-seven-day festival turns out to be a great success. Three hundred thirty thousand people are received. To add excitement Mao and his new cabinet attend my closing ceremony. Standing next to Mao in a brand-new grass-green army uniform I clap. When the curtain descends I weep in happiness. With "The Manual of the Cultural Revolution" being distributed in every commune, factory, campus and street, I have established my leadership. On my order, students, workers and peasants challenge the authorities. At rallies I recite Mao's poem into the microphone:
The brave winter plums blossom in the snow
Only the pitiful flies cry and freeze themselves to death!
The opposition shows no sign of quitting. Vice Chairman Liu organizes his own counterattack groups. His messengers are called the Work Team. Their purpose is to put out the "wildfires"-to destroy Madame Mao.
Yet she is not worried. Mao has confirmed his desire to beat Liu. Mao is determined to set Vice Chairman Liu himself on fire.
Last night she dreamed. She fumbled her way into her lover's arms, sobbing piteously. He comforted her as if she were a child. Her tears soaked into his shirt.
This morning they have breakfast together. Being in each other's presence has become a way to show affection. She doesn't tell him about her dream. His face is calm and patient. They eat quietly. He has bread and porridge with hot pepper, and she has milk and fruit with a piece of toast. The servants stand like trees. They watch the masters eating. If it were in her residence she would send them away. Mao is not bothered. He likes to have guards and servants standing in every corner of the room while he eats. He can be perfectly at ease having bowel movements in front of his guard.
So what is going on with the students? Mao asks, drinking up his ginseng soup noisily.
I've scouted a young man from Qinghua University, a seventeen-year-old chemistry student. His name is Kuai Da-fu.
I take pleasure in describing Kuai Da-fu. I discuss him as if he were my son. He has a thin face and an intense character. He has a pair of raccoon eyes and a large nose. His lips remind me of a dry riverbed. Mao laughs at this remark.
Go on, he says. Go on.
He is shy, vulnerable and yet full of passion. His frame is not strong. He is almost delicate. But he has the charisma of a teen idol. When he speaks, his eyes sparkle and his face blushes. Although he is inexperienced, his ambition and 'determination will guarantee him success.
Mao pushes away his bowl and lies back in his chair. He wants to know how I came to lay my eyes on him.
It was his reaction to "The 5.16 Notification," I explain. He created a big-character poster that attacked the head of the Work Team, a man named Yelin. He called Yelin a capitalism promoter. As a result he was expelled by the school and put under house arrest for eighteen days.
But the young man has committed no crime! Mao argues loudly as if to a crowd.
Yes, Kuai Da-fu admitted no guilt, Madame Mao continues. Instead, he formed a one-person hunger demonstration.
What fine material!
I thought so too.
He must be inspiring to others.
What should I do?
Visit him!
That is exactly what I did. I sent my agent Comrade Dong-you probably don't remember him, he used to work for Kang Sheng and is loyal. He looks so ordinary and boring that he blends into the crowds without arousing any suspicion.
Yes?
I told him that he has my support and yours. I asked him to hang on and take the opportunity to set himself as an example to the nation's youth.
It is at this moment Mao leans over and puts his hand on my shoulder. Rubbing gently he whispers, I feel blessed having you by my side. Are you exhausted? I don't want to work you to death. How about a vacation? I am leaving tomorrow. Would you like to come along?
I'd love to. But you need someone to stay in Beijing. You need me to control the situation.
Mao has been avoiding Vice Chairman Liu's calls, he has gone as far as Wuhan in Hubei Province. But Liu follows him. Insisting on reporting Beijing's trouble. The student riots. The wildfires. He begs Mao to order a stop. Liu has no idea what he has gotten himself into.
No historian can understand how a brilliant man like Liu could be so ignorant. How is it possible that he doesn't see Mao's irritation? There can only be two explanations. One is that he is so humble that he never sees himself as a threat to Mao. The other is that he is so confident that he doesn't think Mao has any reason to object to his actions. In other words he has already seen himself running China, seen the people and the Party congress voting for him over Mao.
About Vice Chairman Liu's report Mao makes no comment. When Liu begs him to return to Beijing, Mao refuses. Before departing Liu asks for Mao's instruction. Mao drops a phrase: Do-what-you-see-fit.
When Liu gets back to the capital his eagerly awaited cabinet members greet him at the train station. Liu explains his puzzlement over Mao. The cabinet tries to analyze the situation. If Liu chooses to let it be, which means allowing Madame Mao Jiang Ching and Kang Sheng to go on sweeping the country, Mao can come back and fire him for not doing his job. But if he stops Jiang Ching and Kang Sheng, Mao might take their side. After all she is his wife.
After a nerve-racking discussion, Liu and Deng decide to send more Work Teams to reestablish order. To assure the correctness of his action Liu dials Mao's line. Again there is no response.
By now schools have been closed nationwide. The students copy their hero Kuai Da-fu and crowd the streets with big-character posters. Promote the revolution! has become the hottest slogan. To impress each other the students begin to attack pedestrians who they suspect are from the upper class. They strip clothes made of silk, tear narrow-bottom pants and cut pointed leather shoes. The police are under attack as "reactionary machines" and are paralyzed. The students and workers form factions and begin to attack each other over the control of territories. The nation's economy comes to a halt.
At the Politburo meeting in Beijing Vice Chairman Liu's voice is hoarse. In front of his entire cabinet he again dials Mao's line: The chaos must be stopped at once, Chairman.
Mao's response comes cold and indifferent. I am not ready to come back to Beijing. Why don't you go ahead with your plans?
May I have your permission?
You have been running the country, haven't you?
With this Liu gets back to work again. Hundreds more Work Teams are sent. Within two months the wildfires have been put out.
July 8, 1966. Mao writes me. The letter is sent from his hometown, Shao Shan in Hunan Province. He tells me a story of an ancient character named Zhong Kui, a hero who is known for catching evil spirits.
Since the sixties I have become the Communist Zhong Kui. He goes on to describe himself as an international rebel-he knows that I have an affection for rebels and bandits. Things have their limits. What do you expect by getting to the top but that you begin to go downwards? I have been long prepared to fight until all my bones are ground into powder. There are over a hundred Communist Parties in the entire world. Most of them have quit Marxism and Leninism to embrace capitalism. We are the only Party left. We must deal with the cruelty of such reality, we must figure out what our enemies are up to, and we must act ahead to survive.
I see my husband's perspective. I understand what is at stake and feel his determination to destroy the enemy. I see where I stand. Once again I have become a comrade in arms. During the day I am all over Beijing. I have developed hundreds of projects and they are all going on at the same time. Once in a while my body fails to catch up with me. It breaks down with fever. At those moments I send for Nah and she comes to my bedside.
Nah tries to hold me back. She doesn't understand why I have to risk my health. She doesn't see the point. I can barely express it myself. A woman like me thrives on living life to its fullest. I have cast my lot with her father. His dreams, his love and his life. I cannot bear the thought of being abandoned again. There is no logic behind the matter. Mao is simply my curse. I would never wish a love like this for my daughter. It is just too hard. I am driven by a fatal impulse. Like a bruised salmon I swim against the current to find my way back to the birth river. I worry that if I stop for only a second, Mao might turn away and my life will fall apart.
With Chun-qiao and Kang Sheng's help I alert the press to stand by. I tell the heads that the situation might change at any given moment. Chairman Mao is contemplating his final decision. On July 17, I dial Mao's line and leave a message. The situation in Beijing has ripened. The next day, Mao's train zips back to Beijing. It catches everyone by surprise.
The same night, Vice Chairman Liu hurries to see Mao. But Mao's bodyguard blocks him. The Chairman has retired for the evening. But Liu notices that there are other cars parked on the driveway. Obviously there are guests.
Liu begins to sense his fate. He goes back home and discusses his fear with his wife. The two have a sleepless night. At midnight they talk about whether to wake up the children to leave their will. They change their minds because they convince themselves that Mao is the leader of the Communist Party, not a feudal king. But still they are restless. They sit in the cold and wait for the day to dawn. Before daybreak Liu is suddenly scared.
I am old, he says.
The woman opens herself up to hold the man. She feels his body tremble slightly. You are doing all you can for the interest of China, she says gently. Would you pay the price if there is one?
The man says yes.
You are stubborn.
It was our marriage vow.
I haven't forgotten. She lays her head on his chest. I swore that I would proudly collect your head if you are slaughtered for your belief.
Fear gives way to courage. The next day the Lius convey their fears to Deng and the rest of their friends. The cold air is now in everyone's lungs. Some members begin to plan their escape while the rest wait.
I am alone with my husband. He sent for me and only me. To be with me is his way of rewarding me. He expects me to appreciate it and I do. Six months ago I was crying, What's the body that is empty of a soul?
I am fifty-two years old and I have a spiritual marriage with Mao.
Outside there is a symphony of crickets. Tonight it sounds magnificent. Mao and I sit facing each other. The tea is getting cold, but our feelings have just warmed up. It's past midnight and he is not tired, nor am I. He is in his robe and I am in an army uniform. It doesn't matter what I wear now. But I still come carefully dressed. I want to resemble the way I looked back in Yenan.
In the rattan chair he sits like a big ship stuck on the rocks. His belly is a carry-around table. He rests his tea mug on the "table." His face is getting puffier. His spider-web wrinkles spread out. His eyes are much smaller now. The lines on his face have become feminine. All are beautiful to me.
You have done a terrific job in keeping me informed, he says, lighting up a cigarette.
I tell him not to mention it. You have my loyalty forever.
My colleagues call me a madman. What do you think?
Stalin and Chiang Kai-shek used to call you the same thing, didn't they? It's part of the hysteria-your rivals are jealous of your dominance. But the truth is no one saves China but Mao Tse-tung.
No, no, no, listen, you've got to listen to me, something is happening. I am not the man you used to know. Come and sit by me. Yes, just like this.
We chat. He tells me of his long waking nights. How he suspects an ongoing conspiracy. He describes his horror of not being able to control the situation. It crystallized when he returned to the capital. When he saw that everything was in order-his absence of five months caused no stir-he panics. You see, Liu has proved to the Party and the citizens that he can run the country without me.
He stops talking. I need to be left alone now. Oh, wait. On second thought, don't go. Stay and finish your tea.
He sits back down. Yes, this is what I am going to do. Got to place an order… Are you with me, Jiang Ching? Come closer. There are voices inside my head. I can hear Liu ask what his fault is, and I can hear myself replying: I simply can't sleep when I hear your footsteps walking around my bed.
I wait until my husband finishes his monologue. What do you think? he asks again. He looks at me eagerly.
I can't come up with a response. I have lost my concentration. I begin to improvise my answer. I speak in my usual style. It is your vision that will lead China to greatness. I say that the hostility is part of the business. Conspiracy comes as a package of high power. I smile. Anyway, dear Chairman, we are here to celebrate living.
I feel rather out of place. His mood suddenly changes. I am tired, he says. You have to go now.
I bid him good-bye and walk toward the door.
Jiang Ching, he calls, getting up from the rattan chair. Do you believe that we are capable of driving people to the horizon of a great existence?
Yes, I reply. We will grow a tremendous red honeysuckle and populate the sky with it.
The next morning Vice Chairman Liu visits Mao in his study. Liu is not only anxious but nervous. Mao greets him warmly. Mao jokes about his trip. Liu is affected by Mao's humor and lightness. He begins to relax. But when they sit down, Mao's tune changes.
It was a rather sad scene when I got off the train, Mao begins. School gates were closed. There weren't any people in the streets. The mass activity used to be like bamboo shoots in spring-shooting up in good spirits. But it is out of sight now. Who has put out the wildfires? Who has repressed the students? Who is afraid of the people? It used to be the warlords, Chiang Kai-shek and the reactionaries. Mao makes a motion striking his arms and speaks loudly. Those who repress the students will end up being destroyed themselves.
Vice Chairman Liu is stunned with disbelief. Mao becomes a stranger in his eyes. Painfully Liu questions his own ability and judgment. He can't imagine Mao being the organizer of the coup d'état of his own government.
Student Kuai Da-fu from Qinghua University has become a national Maoist icon. He has proven himself a talented organizer. He has grown taller since I last saw him. When I point this out to him, he is embarrassed. It makes me like him even better. His behavior reflects my effort. Kang Sheng says Kuai Da-fu is my pet. I can't disagree. The young man needs help in building self-confidence. I tell Kuai Da-fu that he shouldn't worry about being inexperienced. Chairman Mao started his rebellion when he was the same age. I praise Kuai Da-fu and encourage his every step. You have a true understanding of Maoism. You are a natural leader.
I like to watch Kuai Da-fu when he speaks to his fellow students. Part of his attractiveness comes from his awkwardness. His face turns from pale pink to red and then blue. He doesn't know enough, but he tries hard to be taken seriously. He has turned eighteen today. To put gas in his ego tank, Kang Sheng goes out of his way to help. He follows Kuai Da-fu and shouts slogans. He shows the crowd that Kuai Da-fu has a direct connection to Mao.
The boy is near the sun. The boy is golden. The students long to be given the same power and respect as their leader, Kuai Da-fu. The eager ones have already set themselves up to get noticed. Their names are Tan Hou-lan from Beijing Teachers University, Han Ai-jin from Beijing Aviation Institute, Wang Da-bin from Beijing College of Geology and the forty-year-old little-known literary critic Nie Yuan-zi. They each lead their schools and work hard to please Madame Mao Jiang Ching. Like hundreds and thousands of bees swarming to attack an animal, they try to kick the Work Teams off the campuses. There is resistance. The Work Teams insist on setting the classes back in order. Fights break out while the tension continues to mount.
Appointed by Vice Chairman Liu, the head of the Work Teams, Yelin, stands firm. Although he has released Kuai Da-fu from house arrest, Yelin has gone to Liu and Deng and obtained permission to criticize Kuai Da-fu as a negative example. While Yelin begins his public criticism, Madame Mao Jiang Ching and Kang Sheng come to Kuai Da-fu's rescue. Without notifying Yelin, Jiang Ching and Kang Sheng call up a student rally and demand that the Work Teams disperse.
Yelin begins to understand that the fight is not just between him and the students. Higher powers are involved. Something he has refused to believe is happening. To avoid confrontation, Yelin leaves the campus and goes to hide at the headquarters of the People's Liberation Army, where he originally came from.
Kuai Da-fu is determined to live up to Madame Mao Jiang Ching's expectation. He has organized a student body into an army called the Jing-gang Mountain Group. The students proclaim themselves soldiers and sing "Unity Is Power" day in and day out from campus to campus. They are joined by thousands of other students from outer provinces. The Jing-gang Mountain Group is now a 600,000-member organization with Kuai Da-fu as its commander in chief.
To demonstrate his power Kuai Da-fu takes a group of students to the headquarters of the People's Liberation Army. He demands Yelin. When blocked by the guards the students form a sound-wall. Down with Yelin! they shout. The guards hold their rifles and pay no attention. No trick Kuai Da-fu plays can make the guards open the gate.
The students begin to sing Mao-quotation songs. It's good to rebel, it's right to rebel, and it's necessary to rebel! The guards play deaf. The students sing louder, they begin to climb onto the gate.
The soldiers line up and raise their rifles to aim.
The students turn to Kuai Da-fu.
Catch Yelin and get respect! the hero shouts, remembering what made his name. He climbs on top of the gate and stands erect. Forming his palms into a megaphone, he suddenly declares a hunger demonstration. He then leaps off the human wall and lands on the concrete ground. He lies down like a dead fish and closes his eyes. Behind him a thousand bodies stretch flat across the ground.
It is ten o'clock in the morning when I receive a report from my agent, Mr. Dong. I had sent him to secretly check on the students. I asked him to send my regards to Kuai Da-fu. I have ordered water from nearby hospitals to be infused with glucose and delivered to the students.
I have the operator connect me to my friend Lin Biao, whom Mao recently has appointed as the vice chairman of the Communist Party.
What's up?
I need your help, Marshal Lin.
Speak up, please.
Your employee Yelin is giving my kids from Qinghua University a hard time. The kids just want a word with him but the guards don't understand. The kids are undergoing a hunger strike.
What are you going to do with Yelin?
I'm going to criticize him as a capitalism promoter.
A capitalism promoter? I have never heard of such a title.
My dear Vice Chairman, once the kids get Yelin, they will hold a stadium-size rally to criticize him under that title. They will shout out the phrase officially.
Over the phone I hear Lin placing an order. I hear him yell, I don't care whether or not Yelin is sick. If he can't move, send him out on a stretcher!
After she puts Yelin in Kuai Da-fu's hands, she begins to plan bigger battles. On July 29, she opens a 2,000-person rally at the Grand Hall of the People to honor the Cultural Revolution activists. Invitations are sent to all high-ranking officers including Vice Chairman Liu, Deng and Premier Zhou. The rally once again denounces the Work Teams. Liu, Deng and Zhou are pressed to give criticisms, to which they reluctantly agree. Both Deng and Zhou give nonsubstantial speeches. The words are dry and copied from newspapers. But Vice Chairman Liu doesn't give in easily. In his speech he leaves questions to the crowd. How to carry out the Cultural Revolution? I have no idea. Many of you claim that you are not clear either. What's going on? I am not clear about the nature of my mistake. I have not realized the greatness of the Cultural Revolution.
Do you see how we are rejected? Madame Mao Jiang Ching says, grabbing the microphone as she gets up on the stage. The crowd's clapping becomes thunderlike. Madame Mao continues, her voice resonant. She suggests that the crowd take a look at the streamer above their heads, which reads: Is the Cultural Revolution a spare-time activity or a full-time job?
Do you see how our enemies use every chance to put out the revolutionary wildfires? And do you understand why Chairman Mao has to worry?
Liu responds. He emphasizes the discipline and the rules of the Communist Party. He says that no one should be above the Party.
Madame Mao is challenged.
I see people agree with Liu. Murmuring rises in the crowd. The youths start to argue among themselves. The representatives of factions get on the stage and present their views one by one. The tone of the speakers begins to change. Sentence by sentence they echo or simply take Liu's side.
My rally is backfiring! I sit on the panel's seat and start to panic. I look toward Kang Sheng, who is sitting at the end of the bench, for help. He gives me a look that says Stay calm and then slips from his seat. After a short while he is back. He passes me a note: "Mao is on his way here."
Before I can tell Kang Sheng how relieved I am, Mao appears by the curtain. Clapping his hands, he bluntly pushes his way onto the stage. He is instantly recognized. The crowd boils: Long live Chairman Mao!
I hold my breath and shout with the crowd.
Mao doesn't say anything. He doesn't slow down either. He walks and claps his way from the left side of the stage to the right and disappears like a ghost.
The crowd is instantly reminded that Madame Mao Jiang Ching is backed by her man.
August 1. She and Mao meet again in his study. He tells her that he has written a letter in response to an organization called the Red Guards. I am adding new divisions to your force. He sits her down. I am giving you wings. The students are from the Middle School of Qinghua University. They are even younger than your kids. They can't wait to do what your kids are doing.
I like the title the Red Guards. It shows guts. Red, the color of the revolution, and Guards, your defender. Have you given them any inscription?
I have. A red armband with my calligraphy, Red Guards, on it.
She asks him if she can join him to inspect the Red Guards' representatives. I'd like to offer my support. She is welcomed. I have it scheduled on August 18, he says. Show up with me at the Gate of Heavenly Peace in Tiananmen Square.
Dawn, August 18, 1966. Tiananmen Square is packed with one and a half million students and workers. It is an ocean of red flags. The entire Boulevard of Long Peace is blocked by youths from all over the country. Everyone wears a red armband with Mao's yellow calligraphic Red Guards. The crowd extends miles, from the Gate of Xin-hua to the Security Building, from the Golden Water Bridge to the Imperial Front Gate. Upon the news of Mao's inspection, hundreds and thousands of student organizations have changed their title overnight into Red Guards, including Kuai Da-fu's faction the Jing-gang Mountain Group. The green uniform and red armband on the left arm is the look. The crowd sings: The golden sun rises in the East. A long life to our great leader and savior Chairman Mao.
Eleven o'clock. In the midst of the melody of "The East is Red" comes stormy clapping. The million and a half shout. Tears pour. Some bite their sleeves to hold their cries. Mao appears on top of the Gate of Heavenly Peace. He moves slowly toward the bars at the edge of the platform. He wears the same identical army uniform and armband as the youths. The cap with a red star on the top sits on his big head. He walks in the middle with Madame Mao Jiang Ching on his right and Marshal Lin Biao on his left. They wear the same costumes as Mao.
I feel that my life is so complete that I can die in happiness. The crowd pushes us like morning tides. It is my first time being seen in public with Mao shoulder to shoulder. The king and his lady. We are wrapped by the waves of sound. Long live Chairman Mao and salute to Comrade Jiang Ching!
Still moving we come down the gate toward the crowd. The security guards line up to form a human path to assure our way. We pay no attention to colleagues behind. The two of us stride along the bar, looking down at the ocean of the rocking heads.
Long live!
Ten thousand years of long life!
We are descending. Suddenly, as if seized by emotion, Mao stops short and walks back up the gate. He walks quickly all the way to the right corner and leans against the bar. Taking off his cap he strikes his arms and shouts, Long live my people!
I am ready to climb a mountain made of knives for Chairman Mao, young Kuai Da-fu swears at a meeting where Madame Mao Jiang Ching arranges for him to meet Chun-qiao. It doesn't take long for Chun-qiao to enlighten him.
When will time mature? Kuai Da-fu asks.
Listen to your heart's call, Madame Mao answers. What does Chairman Mao teach us?
Pull up the weeds by the roots.
Here we go.
Seek the biggest root, says Chun-qiao.
We need a breakthrough, nods Madame Mao Jiang Ching.
Midnight, January 13, 1967. Mao has a warm meeting with Vice Chairman Liu at the Grand Hall of the People. The next day Liu is arrested and held overnight by the Red Guards.
It is not the end of Liu, but it is a strong punch in the stomach. In Mao's world one is put in constant confusion and terror. Throughout the Cultural Revolution Mao makes Jiang Ching believe that she is inheriting China. What's hidden from her is that Mao makes the same promise to others, including those whom she considers his enemies, Deng Xiao-ping and Marshal Ye Jian-ying. When Deng is made to believe that he has a hold on the nation's power, Mao switches and passes the power key to another man.
Madame Mao knows her husband's tactics as well as anyone. But during this season of fever she believes she is exempt. She thinks of herself as the prime mover of Mao's salvation. She plays her role with such conviction that she has lost herself. She sacrifices more than she knows.
I am concerned about Nah. I ask her to help me control the military. She has graduated from the People's University with an advanced degree in history. But Nah is a crooked seed that won't sprout. To help her I ask Marshal Lin to introduce me personally to Wu Fa-xian, the commander of the air force. I ask if Wu can offer Nah a position as a senior editor at The Liberation Army. The favor is granted and Nah goes to work. A few weeks later my daughter tells me that she is bored. No matter how much saliva I waste, she is not going back.
For the past two weeks my worries about Nah have kept me from sleep. I try to get help from Mao but his mood has soured. He is frustrated that he can't generate the public's hatred toward Vice Chairman Liu. Mao thinks that Liu's popularity is a conspiracy itself. Crack the nut! Mao said the last time we are together. He doesn't care about Nah's future. He has asked me to choose between helping him or helping Nah.
Today I am working on someone else's daughter. I am helping Mao. Her name is Tao, the daughter of Vice Chairman Liu from his previous marriage. Tao resents her father's divorce and doesn't get along with her stepmother. I visit Tao and take her out for lunch. I offer her the chance to be a Maoist. I listen to her patiently and direct her thoughts. I press on until she is able to express herself freely without fear.
I think my father is a capitalism promoter, the girl begins.
Yes, Tao, Madame Mao Jiang Ching nods gently. You are getting the justice you deserve. Firm your tone and trim your phrase. Take off the "I think." Say, My father is a capitalism promoter. Say it clearly. Think about how your stepmother made your father abandon your mother. Think about how she takes up your mother's spot in the bed. Recall your misery as a child. Wang Guang-mei ought to pay for your suffering. Don't cry, Tao. I feel your pain. My child, this is your aunt Jiang Ching speaking. Uncle Mao is behind you. Let me tell you, Mao has put out his own big-character poster on August 5. The title is BOMBARD THE HEADQUARTERS. I am sure you know whom he is bombarding, don't you? It is to save your father. To save him from being kicked out of history. You must help him. Uncle Mao and I know that you disagree with your father and stepmother. You are an outcast of the Liu family. Here is your chance to establish yourself as a true revolutionary. Tao, nobody else will speak for you. You must do it for yourself. Catch the light in your dark life, girl. Come on, write your thoughts down and read them at tomorrow's rally.
The girl trembles as she finishes her speech. The title is "The Devil's Soul-In Denouncing My Father Liu Shao-qi." The effect is overwhelming. The story of the Lius' corruption spreads overnight. Colored by rumor and fueled by imagination the monstrous details travel from ear to ear. Cartoons illustrating the Lius as bloodsuckers are all over China's walls and buildings. The couple are described as traitors and Western agents since their cradle days.
August 25. Kuai Da-fu leads five thousand Red Guards to spread leaflets for the upcoming event called "Trial of the Lius." Kuai Da-fu marches across Tiananmen Square and shouts through the amplifiers, Down, smash, boil and fry Liu Shao-qi and his partner Deng Xiao-ping!
I am sitting in the greenroom of the Beijing Worker's Stadium. It is eight o'clock in the morning. The stadium is packed with forty thousand Red Guards, students, workers, peasants and soldiers. I have come to test my power. Kuai Da-fu has been in the front cheerleading the crowds. The sound is ear-blasting.
Kuai Da-fu has been holding over fifty members of the congress and Politburo hostage. Among them the mayor of Beijing, the head of the Cultural Bureau, and Luo Rei-qing, the former minister of national defense. They are the men who believe that they needn't respect me because their loyalty toward Mao will make him back them in the event of misunderstanding. Well, we'll see.
Luo Rei-qing is in a manure basket. His leg is broken. He had resisted arrest by jumping off a building. Two Red Guards now carry him up with a shoulder-pole. He looks like an old goat being carried to market. Madame Mao Jiang Ching hears a burst of laughter from the crowd. On the makeshift stage, her enemies are lined up. Their hands are cuffed in the back. Kuai Da-fu gives each subject a dunce cap with his name written on it and crossed out by dripping black ink. In the meantime the crowd sings Mao's teaching: Revolution is not a dinner party. Revolution is violence.
She has told Kuai Da-fu that Mao is happy with his achievements. Although she didn't say that Mao wants the men harmed, Kuai Da-fu has figured out what Mao would like to have done.
I shout slogans with Kuai Da-fu. Mao's teaching is thunder that splits the sky and a volcano that breaks the ocean bed! Mao's teaching is truth!
Mao has let me see the secret of ruling. Marshal Peng De-huai was a loyalist who once played a key role in establishing the republic. However, Mao told me that it didn't mean that Peng wouldn't turn into an assassin. Mao's ability to adapt to emotional change keeps him safe all these years. I don't see him suffer regrets. He is convinced that heartlessness is the price he has to pay.
She spellbinds the audience. Five hundred thousand Red Guards all over the country are at her command. They are more powerful than the soldiers. They are free-spirited and creative. The meeting lasts for four hours. It ends with the men ridiculed and beaten up. The stubborn Luo lost both of his legs.
Don't stop until we drive the enemies off the edge! Madame Mao shouts hysterically in the greenroom. She is excited and frightened at the same time. Kang Sheng has told her that there are serious rumors going around that her enemies will "finish Mao's woman in her own bed." Kang Sheng has traced the source to the military; this panics Madame Mao even more. The "old boys" like Marshal Ye Jian-ying, Chen Yi, Xu Xiang-qian and Nie Rong-zhen are Vice Chairman Liu's close friends. They are frustrated with Mao's elusive behavior. The anger is so great that the atmosphere in Beijing smokes. The word "kill" is in the air. It is a tradition to make an unfit emperor's concubine the victim. Killing her would teach the emperor a lesson. The tragic love story between Emperor Tang and Concubine Yang is a classic. Killing the woman is a proven method for healing relationships between warlords.
I am learning to kill. I am trying not to shake. There is no middle ground, I tell myself. Kill or be killed. On February 10, 1967, a congressional meeting takes place. The string between the oppositions tightens. The focus is whether or not to acknowledge my leadership in the army; whether Kuai Da-fu and his Red Guards are allowed to open branch offices in the army, and whether the students should be permitted to organize rallies to criticize the army heads. All meetings end up with each side banging the table. Later on a secret letter of petition signed by the "old boys" is delivered to Mao by Marshal Tan Zhen-lin.
I am sure Tan has never imagined that I would get a chance to read the letter. But I do. Mao shows it to me voluntarily. In the letter I am described as a "white-boned demon," a bloodsucker and a bad cloud hanging over the sky of the Communist Party. I am demanded as a sacrifice.
You are left with no choice, Mao says, flipping himself in his indoor swimming pool. He looks like a fat otter. Too much pork with sugar and soy sauce, I think to myself.
What are you going to do? he asks, floating. Marshal Tan says that he has never cried, but now is crying for the Party.
I look around trying to find a place to sit, but there are no chairs. I haven't been to the pool since its renovation. I don't know what Tan means, I say.
Mao dives into the water and then resurfaces. Why don't we read his letter one more time, then?
He is quitting the Party's membership. And he has done three things he regrets in life.
One?
That he is living today…
He is ashamed.
Second, he regrets following you and that he became a revolutionary; and third…
He regrets ever joining the Communist Party.
Precisely, Chairman.
Mao rolls over and swims with his belly up. It makes him look like he is holding a ball. He closes his eyes and continues to float. After a while he swims toward the edge.
I watch him climb out. The water falls from him in silver streams. He has gained a tremendous amount of weight. The muscles are puffy on his chest and arms. Below his swelling belly, his legs are extremely thin. He picks up a towel and steps into gray shorts.
Call Premier Zhou to arrange a meeting. I'll talk to the old boys on the eighteenth. By the way I want you to join me. Lin Biao and his wife too.
My sky brightens-Mao is picking up the gun himself.
I call up Kang Sheng and Chun-qiao to celebrate the news.
The meeting of historical significance opens on the evening of February 18, 1967. Premier Zhou is the host. Lin's wife Ye and I come early along with Kang Sheng, Chun-qiao and his disciple Yiao Wen-yuan. We sit on the left side of a long table with Mao and Premier Zhou on each end. We are all dressed in the People's Liberation Army uniform.
I am excited and a little nervous. I worry that I don't look tough enough. Ye is better. She is a typical military wife who can bang the table louder than her husband. Since Mao wants Lin to be his successor, Ye has been acting like a second lady. She is careful with me, though. She has learned Wang Guang-mei's lesson. She compliments me on every occasion and invites me to speak at the Institute of the People's Liberation Army. She shows her appreciation.
Ye reminds me of a midwife in my village who powdered her skin with flour in order to make herself look like a city woman with pale skin. Ye never tells me about her background. She avoids the subject when I ask. She is not proud of her origin. I am sure it's low. I am glad that she doesn't speak foreign languages and I am glad that she doesn't like to read. I selfishly feel blessed that she acts a fool when speaking in front of the public. She is a lousy speaker. She once told me that every time she gets up on the stage she gets diarrhea afterwards.
I have been thinking that if I play the game right Ye can be a perfect supporting actress. Her stupidity serves as a foil to my intelligence. For that I am willing to help her. Getting to know her will also make it easier to destroy her in the future if necessary. After all I have no idea how the Lins will treat me after Mao passes away. It won't be hard for them to find an excuse and get rid of me. I am trusting nobody.
At the moment Ye is the woman I need to replace Wang Guang-mei. Ye indulges in rumors. She goes door to door to collect them. She digs up garbage and analyzes her gatherings like a backyard rat.
Mao gives no greeting when Marshal Chen Yi, Tan Zhen-lin, Ye Jian-ying, Nie Rong-zhen, Xu Xiang-qian, Li Fu-chun and Li Xian-nian enter the room. Premier Zhou is used to Mao's unpredictable temper and he starts the meeting anyway. By making light jokes he tries to relax everyone. Suddenly he is interrupted-Mao fires.
What are you boys up to? Conducting a coup d'état? Trying to remove me? Has Liu always been your secret choice? Why the conspiracy? Why vote for the Cultural Revolution in the first place? Why don't you vote against me and live with the honesty you claim as your principle? Why act like cowards?
The old boys are speechless.
Marshal Tan glances at the opposite side of the table where Madame Mao Jiang Ching sits sandwiched by Kang Sheng and Chun-qiao.
Tan breaks the silence. I am sticking to my view. I don't get it, to be honest with you, Chairman. What is the Cultural Revolution if its goal is to abolish order? Why torture the founding fathers of the republic? What's the point in creating factions in the army? To tear down the country? Make me get it, Chairman!
The old boys nod in unison.
Mao seems to be shocked by Tan's frankness. Good Tan! Here the devil comes to show its true face! You know what? There is no way I will allow you to bring the Cultural Revolution to a miscarriage! The Red Guards have my full support! What they are doing is what China needs. A soul operation on a mass scale! We need chaos! Absolute chaos! Violence is the only choice to turn the situation. A new China can only be born upon the ashes of the old.
She praises Mao in her heart. What a performance! Chaos, absolute chaos. She smiles although her face continues to look grave. She turns to Kang Sheng, who is nodding with the same we-are-winning glance.
Let me make myself clear, Mao continues. If the Cultural Revolution fails, I will retreat. I will take Comrade Lin Biao with me. We will go back to the mountains. You can have everything. I am sure that's why you are here today, aren't you? You want Liu and you want capitalism. You want to give the people's China back to landlords and industrialists. Fine! You shall watch our children being sold, exploited and worked to death again. Have it all! Why aren't you talking? What's wrong? What is the silence and bitter expression? You have been giving my wife Comrade Jiang Ching a hard time. You never acknowledge her as my representative and a leader in her own right. What's the truth behind this? How do you pretend that this is not directed toward me? Take over the power, then! Hey, Marshal Tan and Chen, you, the loudest, the most opinionated. Why don't you arrest my wife? Take her out! Shoot her! Pull the trigger! Destroy the headquarters of the Cultural Revolution. Put Kang Sheng into exile, get rid of me once and for all. Go ahead if you have such hatred for Comrade Jiang Ching and me. Why don't you boys fart!
Like a bug who throws himself into the fire, Tan gets up and starts to swear. Shame!
Mao clenches his teeth. A cigarette breaks between his fingers. When he speaks again, his voice has a strange throaty sound as if coming up with phlegm. It's fine with me that you choose to turn yourself into a reactionary. Fine with me that you make yourself an enemy of the people. What can I do? Thirty-three years ago I saved the army because the army was ready to be saved. Am I right, Premier Zhou?
Premier Zhou and the old boys lower their heads. Mao stirs the memory of the past, of the horror without his leadership, of three fourths of the Red Army destroyed in months, of the shame of the Party's misconduct by men including Premier Zhou himself, and of how Mao single-handedly turned defeat into victory.
The seventeen-year-old Nah stands in front of her mother.
Tea or turtle broth? the mother asks.
I don't want to talk about my marriage. The daughter puts down her bag.
Do I have the right to learn the young man's name? The mother's voice is high-pitched.
Call him Comrade Tai. He's twenty-eight years old.
Are you aware that he is a low-ranking officer?
I thought that every human being created under the sky of Mao is equal.
Would you sit down?
No.
Well, have you ever questioned the reason why he gets no promotion?
He is retiring.
You mean dropping out.
Whatever.
I hope he is not going back to the village.
Well, he is and I am going with him.
The mother's breath halts. She tries to control herself. After a long pause she manages to ask where the place is.
A village in Ninxia Province.
Ninxia? The ghost place?…You are doing this to me… Why?
The daughter keeps her mouth shut.
The mother breathes deeply as if she will pass out if she stops. What… what did your father say?
He blessed me and said that he would be behind me even if I chose to enter a monastery.
A choke takes hold of the mother. She begins to cough.
The daughter fetches a cup of water and goes to give it to her.
Heartless! The mother pushes her away and yells, banging her chest. Heartless!
You haven't presented me with the in-laws. Who are they?
The daughter makes no reply.
Nah!
I am not going to answer your question when I know that you are going to insult me.
Well then, I will have to put up a protest at your wedding.
There will be no wedding, Mother. We have… The daughter turns away and looks out the window. We have already married and I can get it for you if you would like to see a copy of our registration.
Stunned, the mother gets up, goes to the wall and begins to bang her head.
We are leaving for Wunin tomorrow. The daughter watches her mother and trembles in tears. After a while the scene becomes unbearable. Without saying a word, the daughter leaves.
The mother curls into a ball at the corner of the wall. She then crawls over the floor and onto the sofa, suffocating herself with a pillow.
I am trying to close my eyes on Nah, but I am unable to. Regret is eating my heart alive. I wish I had tied her shoelaces, packed her lunches and made her skirts when she was a little girl. I wish I had given her birthday parties and invited her friends to our home. I wish I had spent more time talking to her and learning to help with her troubles. But all is too late and out of control. She must be so lonely and desperate to marry herself off as a way out. She wants to punish me. She wants me to witness how she destroys her future-my future. I used to think that being Mao's daughter was Nah's biggest fortune… Have I taken out my anger toward my mother on my daughter-neglecting her the way I was neglected? I've abandoned my own wish to be a good mother.
And I hear my heart's cry. I am willing to give up everything to reclaim my daughter's love. But I can't. I am running Mao's business. It is like riding on a tiger's back-I am unable to get off. I live to please Mao. I am selfish and can't escape what made me. I can't live without Mao's affection. In that sense I am pitiful, a hostage of my own emotion. I have been trying to beat this pitifulness. I am a bloody heroine.
It didn't turn out right. Now I'm missing my little girl. Her little arms around my neck. The way she tiptoed into my bed at night. I want her back and I am going crazy thinking about what I have done… What happened? What's wrong with me that I refused to kiss her at every departure? I have taught her to deaden her own emotions. I meant to make her strong so she could have a life that's better than mine.
It's fate, my mother would have said. There isn't much one can do to change the way it is meant for her to live. I dream of my being killed as Mao's woman. It is the role I play with passion. It is the dance I was born to finish.